


I’m a Bunny, Baby

by jacksbits (fragilehuge)



Series: He's a Bunny, Baby [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Established Relationship, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Schmoop, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilehuge/pseuds/jacksbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“You’re hard?” Bitty asks, brain whiting out a little. “Just because of those selfies?”</i> </p><p><i>“‘</i>…Just because of those…?<i>’ ” repeats Jack in disbelief.</i></p><p>Jack likes Bitty’s Halloween costume. A lot. (Now with a second part!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m a Bunny, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> This is just smut. I have nothing to say for myself except... I _also_ really like Bitty’s Halloween costume? I mean, [just look at it](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/post/133574802822). Can you blame me, really?
> 
> For [Bee](http://bittyybee.tumblr.com/). You’ve been instrumental in one way or another for all of this. Thanks to [Rhysiana](http://rhysiana.tumblr.com/) for looking this over. This part originally posted to tumblr [here](http://jacksbits.tumblr.com/post/144012171442/the-best-part-about-all-of-this-is-if-the-short).

At around 8:30pm on Halloween, Nursey sends the picture of Bitty in the puck bunny costume to the SMH group chat. 

Jack just says, “Haha. Nice.” 

Bitty is sort of fuming about it. 

He’s thinking, _...nice?_ He intended to literally murder Jack dead with this costume, and that’s the reaction he gets? He’d kept the whole thing a secret in the weeks leading up to Halloween, so that group message was the very first time Jack had seen the costume. _Nice_ , that’s all Jack can say? There’s not even any private texts from Jack with a more passionate reaction. Ugh. 

Well, Bitty can get the truth out of him. He doesn’t believe Jack’s calm for a second. 

He texts Jack, _sooo what do you REALLY think?_

It takes Jack a little while to respond—he’s at some Halloween charity event with the Falcs that he couldn’t get out of—but eventually Bitty’s phone buzzes with a text. _It’s cute. I like it._

Cute. _Cute?_ That is _so_ not what he was going for here. He is trying to be sexy! Or hot. Not _cute_. Jesus. 

Bitty goes up to his room to look in the mirror, and… he looks good. He _knows_ he does. He’s staring at his reflection and, okay, he doesn’t think of himself as hot very often, but he looks fucking hot. He just needs to make Jack see _._

Clearly, the appropriate response to Jack’s text is to show him just how wrong he is. Of course. 

So Bitty leans forward and takes a kind of risqué selfie—leaning over, the costume falls forward some, so the picture shows off his collarbone and a bit of chest. The shot is framed so Bitty’s lips are visible, his mouth pink and slightly open, a flash of teeth biting into his lower lip. It’s a _good_ picture. He sends it to Jack with the caption, _so I look cute huh._

Jack doesn’t respond for a couple of minutes, probably too busy to look at his phone right away, and Bitty gets impatient and takes another picture, this time lying back on his bed, a close-up of his hair and neck and the joint of his shoulder against the sheets. _Wish you were here._

Jack sends back, _haha me too, Bits._

Bitty frowns at his phone. He’s a little drunk, because it’s Halloween and he’s been drinking since seven, but he doesn’t think he’s being _unreasonable_ for wanting Jack to have a stronger reaction to his sexy selfies, alright? He goes back to the mirror and turns around, bending forward a little so the costume pulls tight over his ass, the cute puffy little tail centered in the frame, and takes another picture over his shoulder. The bunny suit is cut short, and Bitty frames the shot to maximally show off the long bare stretch of thigh that’s visible. If you look closely you can actually see the very bottom of his ass cheeks. He sends the picture with the caption _you know what bunnies like to do, right?_

Bitty stares at his phone, thinking _surely_ he’s going to get a reaction after that last one, but he’s still surprised when his phone starts buzzing in his hand with an incoming call. 

“Jack?” Bitty asks as he answers it. 

“Bitty, I’m in _public_ ,” Jack says, voice strangled. “There are—donors around. Falcs management. Important people.” 

“Oh—I,” Bitty starts, but he doesn’t really know what to say. He hadn’t meant to—well, he _had_ , but he hadn’t thought about where Jack _was_ , god, it was so inappropriate to send him those pictures right now, wasn’t it? “Shit, I’m sorry. Oh my god, Jack. I didn’t think about it at all. I got a little—carried away.” 

“What possessed you to—try to— _crisse_ , Bitty. To send me all those pictures?” Jack’s voice is rough. He sounds so worked up, and he’s using his sex voice, the one Bitty knows so well at this point. God, he hadn’t _realized_ … Jack just seemed so calm in his responses… 

“I just wanted you to think I was hot!” Bitty blurts. “I wore this costume for you and—well, you just seemed so… normal? When you were texting me?” 

“Bitty, you are _extremely hot_ ,” Jack growls. “That first picture of you with Holster was enough to—I was trying to keep it under control because _I am in public_. I need to be making small talk with VIP season-ticket holders, not hiding in the bathroom because I can’t control my erection after my boyfriend decided to _try to kill me_ —” 

“You’re hard?” Bitty asks, brain whiting out a little. “Just because of those selfies?” 

“ _‘…Just because of those…?’_ ” repeats Jack in disbelief. “Bitty, I don’t think you _understand_ what you do to me, of course I’m hard, did you fucking see yourself in those pictures?” 

“Oh,” Bitty says. He feels a little flattered despite himself. “So—you’re hiding in the bathroom, then? Stalls or a single?” 

“It’s a single,” Jack answers, slightly puzzled. “Why do you ask?” 

“Welllll.” Bitty drags the word out. “Don’t let me keep you if you need to get back, but maybe we could—take care of your problem?” 

“What are— _Bitty._ ” Jack’s breathing is audible over the phone, shaky and loud. “Fuck.” 

Bitty’s not sure if Jack is scandalized or still turned on. Maybe both? 

“It’s pretty sexy, is all,” Bitty says. “Imagining you jerking off in a bathroom in public because of little old me.” 

“Fuck, hold on,” Jack says, sort of muffled, like maybe the phone is pressed between his ear and shoulder. Is Bitty imagining it, or can he hear some kind of rustling on the other end of the line? Jack undoing his pants? “Crisse, fuck, _fuck_.” 

And yeah, that’s definitely what Jack sounds like when he’s desperately turned on and someone finally gets a hand on his dick. Bitty can practically see him in his mind, leaned back against the wall, suit rumpled, face flushed, the phone held against his ear with one hand and the other disappearing into his pants. 

“Feel better, baby?” Bitty asks, dropping his voice low. “Now that you’ve got a hand on your cock?” 

“Bitty,” Jack says. “Shit, I’m already so close—” 

“Come on, baby,” Bitty says. He presses the heel of his hand against his own dick, which is definitely interested in the proceedings. There’s no way he’s going to get off as quickly as Jack, though. From the sound of his voice, it’s not going to be long. Bitty will just have to take care of himself after. 

“I can’t wait until I get back to Samwell,” Jack says. “I fucking miss you so much, I can’t believe how good you look in that costume, I can’t wait to get my hands on you—Bits, fuck, _Bitty—_ ” 

“Yeah,” Bitty says. “That’s good, Jack, come on, I wanna hear you come.” 

“Oh, shit,” Jack says, and then he groans and Bitty knows he’s done it. Jack pants into the line for a second, finally manages, “Haaaa, Bitty. Oh my god.” 

“That was pretty awesome,” Bitty says, palming his cock a little harder now through the front of the costume. That was fucking hot. Definitely going to be enough to get him off once Jack hangs up the phone. 

“Did you come too?” Jack asks. 

Bitty smiles. “Nah, in a minute though—that got me most of the way there. Shit, Jack.” 

“Don’t,” Jack says. 

“What?” 

“Don’t come,” Jack clarifies. “Wait for me.” 

“What—?” Bitty’s kind of irritated by the suggestion. Jack had been planning to drive to Samwell in the morning, since he figured he’d be too tired after the party to make the drive up. That was fine, of course. But Bitty doesn’t want to wait until _tomorrow_ to come, jesus christ. 

“You drove me crazy earlier,” Jack says. “Only seems fair.” 

“Jack, that’s not—I don’t—” 

“Please,” Jack asks. “I’ll make it worth your while later tonight.” 

“What are you talking about?” Bitty asks. 

“I’m coming tonight,” Jack says. “I’m coming to Samwell tonight, as soon as they let us leave this stupid party.” 

Bitty is somewhat distracted from his pressing need to orgasm by the prospect of seeing Jack tonight. But—still—he has to ask, “Jack, are you sure, it’ll be so la—” 

“Don’t even _dare_ ,” Jack says. “I’m coming tonight, and that’s the end of it, and when I get there you’re still going to be wearing that fucking costume and I’m going to do my best to fuck you through the mattress. Okay?” 

“Oh,” Bitty says. “Oh my god.” 

“Sound like a plan?” Jack asks, a little amusement seeping into his tone. 

“Yes,” Bitty manages. “That sounds… great.” 

“I should be able to leave here in a few hours,” Jack says. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

“Me too,” Bitty says, faintly. He got… _way_ more than he bargained for with those pictures. He’d just wanted Jack to text him something like _fuck you look good._ That was _all_. But this is good too. “Um. Okay. Bye, Jack.” 

“See you soon, Bits,” Jack says, and then hangs up. 

A second later, Bitty’s phone lights up with a picture message. It’s the bottom of Jack’s suit jacket, up close, a small whiteish stain near the hem. 

_Look what you made me do._

Jesus. And Jack _doesn’t_ want him to come yet? Bitty’s still formulating a reply when his phone buzzes again. 

_I cleaned it off, but now there’s a damp spot. Think anyone will notice?_

Bitty stares at his phone for a second and then types, _get here asap._

It’s going to be a long couple of hours, waiting for Jack. Bitty is going to have to think twice next time about trying to get a rise out of him like that, if this is what he gets. 

Well. Maybe it won’t really discourage him from trying something like this again. 

Probably it is going to definitely encourage him to do something like this again. You know. As much and as soon as possible. Probably. 

Definitely. 

Bitty’s phone buzzes again, two texts from Jack arriving in quick succession. 

_I will :)_

_I do know what bunnies like to do, you know._

Bitty laughs out loud despite himself. This fucking boy. Sometimes Bitty can’t believe how lucky he got. 

**Author's Note:**

> (But wait! There's more!)


End file.
